A Girl and Her Dummy
by meowloudly15
Summary: A short little one-shot that examines Luan's relationship with Mr. Coconuts. Rated K plus because it's mildly depressing.


**Don't worry, I'm not dead! Here's a little one-shot for you guys! This idea popped into my head, and I just had to bring it to fruition. The story's not very polished, but it's meant to sound like a conversation.**

**Enjoy! R&R!**

* * *

I never had many friends when I was little. It was always just me, goofing around on the playscape or the blacktop. Come to think of it, I can't recall having any particularly good friends before third grade.

But I wasn't totally antisocial, no. I had one tactic, and that was telling jokes. And that was something I got really good at doing, especially after all my years of practice.

I had one joke in particular that I'd use a lot when I was, I dunno, six? I think? It went like this:

"What's the difference between a bird and a fly?

"A bird can fly, but a fly can't bird!"

Heh, it always made me laugh. Funny how I remember it so well, even now, so much later, because I'd tell it all the time. I'd tell it to everyone: friends, family, anyone who I knew hadn't heard it from me before, to the point where people started getting sick of it. But I didn't know back then that I was bugging people.

All I wanted was to make everyone else laugh.

That was the one thing I knew I could do for others, and it's the one thing I know I can still do for them now.

I haven't changed much since I was back in elementary school. I still make jokes all the time, and I still don't have any friends. You'd think I would have learned to be social by now... but apparently, that's not something I can do.

I get lonely sometimes. Often, actually, more than I wish I did. You can get used to anything, even friendlessness, but that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

I don't remember how long ago it was when I decided that I'd make myself a friend. I had plenty of imaginary friends when I was little, which might not have helped me in trying to make friends.

But one day, I think it was in June, I was at the mall with my dad and a couple of my sisters. We saw a toy store and Lynn - you know how Lynn is, she likes playing with everything and always has - said, "Daddy, can we go into the toy store?"

Well, maybe not those exact words, but I digress.

So my dad took us into the store, and we looked around at all the toys and stuff. One of them struck my eye: it was a ventriloquist's dummy. I had seen them used on comedy shows and stuff before. I thought to myself, "I wanna try that. I wanna practice another funny skill and try to get even funnier. Maybe then... maybe then more people will like me. Maybe then I'll get friends."

So I asked my dad if I could have it. He said no. I wasn't happy. I was like seven at the time, so I might have thrown a fit or something.

My birthday was a few weeks later. To my surprise, one of my presents was the same ventriloquist's dummy that I had seen in the store! I was beyond thrilled!

I decided to name him "Mr. Coconuts". I don't know what I was thinking at the time, but I was eight. I'll give myself leeway for stupid names.

We became an inseparable pair. I practiced my Mr. Coconuts voice as much as I could: bringing him around the house, having him talk to all my siblings, taking him to school, the restaurant, the park, everywhere. We were inseparable.

I don't know when, but eventually, Mr. Coconuts turned into my security blanket. If I didn't feel safe at school because somebody was bullying me, I brought him along the next day. When I was worried about being left without my family when I went to overnight summer camp, I brought him along. When I felt uneasy about starting middle school and high school, I brought him along.

People always kind of looked at me funny. I don't always notice, but sometimes I do. And they definitely looked at me like that more after I got Mr. Coconuts. But I didn't care. I had a friend. If they had a problem with me having a friend, that was their problem.

It did hurt, though. It hurt more than I was willing to admit.

You need a thick skin to get through life, so that's what I made for myself. A thick skin. I wish I was made of wood, just like my dummy.

I already am a dummy, I guess.

Why can't I make normal friends? It's not for lack of trying. I try to talk to people, but then they exclude me. I've never understood quite why. Am I too different for them? Is it because of who I am? Because that's not gonna change. I care too much about keeping me the same and not changing for just anybody. Is being me a bad thing?

Some people, some shows, some books say "Hey, look at how great it is to be different! It's cool to not fit in!" And then they turn around and say "Conform! Be cool like everyone else!" And isn't it odd how people stand out to blend in? Why do goths all look the same?

So if I'm not gonna make friends, so be it. If people don't like me for being quirky and jokey and dopey, then screw them. I can make my own friends. Mr. Coconuts is my friend. He's the only friend I need.

Then why does it hurt so much that I don't have friends?

I mean, I've got Benny now. But does he really like me? Or is it just pity?

I don't want people to pity me, but I am a sorry excuse for a human being. I'm a dummy.

* * *

Mrs. Goodman finished taking notes and looked up from her yellow legal pad, resettling herself in her chair.

"Thank you very much for sharing all of this, Luan. I imagine it can't have been easy for you to admit."

Luan hung her head and snatched a tissue from the tissue box on the side table. She blew her nose violently and chucked the tissue into the trash bin.

Mrs. Goodman tapped her fountain pen against the wooden arm of her chair. "Speaking unofficially, I would like to say that Benny does care about you. He would have never recommended you to me if he didn't. I'm very proud of my boy, and I'm so glad that he found a lovely girl like you."

Luan nodded. "He's a sweetheart."

Mrs. Goodman glanced over at the clock. "Well, time's almost up. Thank you for agreeing to come in. You're free to leave if you have nothing else to share."

Luan stood up and walked to the door. She placed her hand on the brass knob, then turned around to look back at her boyfriend's mother.

"Thanks for having me. I think it helped, talking things out."

Mrs. Goodman smiled warmly. "It really does. See you in two weeks."

Luan turned the knob and walked into the waiting room.


End file.
